I really ought to be finishing up "My Hands" but I needed a break from all the fluff I've been writing recently...thought a little bit of regretful!angsty!Lightning would be a good change of pace. This was kind of inspired by Lady Antebellum's "Need You Now."

...then I'll go drown in fluff. XD

Emjoy~!

Lightning Farron hated everything about alcohol, from the way it tasted, to the way it stung her throat, to the way it made her head spin and her thoughts blur.

But tonight, the water glass on the endtable beside her reeked of the loathed substance. It stood alone, long abandoned while Lightning took to drinking her whiskey straight from the bottle. Strong drink for a Wednesday, she mused, her thoughts swimming as she drew another mouthful.

Normally, Lightning would have put on her uniform and reported to her superiors at work to labor her problems away, but as she was on leave to recover from an injury to her neck, drink became the primary alternative. She'd never been one to waste time feeling sorry for herself, but there was a first time for everything, wasn't there? After all, it was her titanium-grade self-restraint that was weakening as she stared at the phone across the room, the TV blaring some nonsense about New Sanctum politics. She'd dared to hope that maybe the drunkenness would help her be more easily distracted and caused to forget.

In the darkest corners of her heart, she knew that no matter how many bottles she emptied, she'd never forget her promise to never call Hope.

Three years ago, she'd been deployed to the reformed Guardian Corps' base in the Yaschas Massif to monitor trade routes. There'd been a flare-up in accidents in recent months as some of the winged Pulsian species learned that every few days, what might have been a can of sardines to them came soaring through a certain stretch of airspace. It took a few downed carriers and a lot of lost money and lives for the military to send in soldiers to safeguard the spots most frequented by Gran Pulse's airborne monstrosities.

Though her deployment was only supposed to be for a few months, due to other problems arising in Oerba and its outlying communities, Lightning was sent out to serve as civil defense. Another year and several months quickly passed, and her frustrations multiplied tenfold. She'd been dying to go back home since the day she left.

Since the day Hopee had turned eighteen, the two of them began spending a lot of time together. Whatever notion Lightning had that Hope thought of her as his second mother or sister figure vanished when he told her how he felt. They began dating a few days after that, and two years later, they shared their first kiss, prompting Lightning to string together four words she hadn't put in a sentence before. Hope…I love you.

Hope had promised her when she was deployed that he would wait as long as he had to for her. He knew he wanted to spend his life with her, he said. He'd known since he was fourteen, he said.

Three years after her return, she still lay in bed at night with three words flashing like a casino marquis in her head.

I believed him.

When she made it back to New Bodhum, Hope wasn't at the station like she'd anticipated. He said he'd wait for her – why wouldn't he have been there after two years of what was sure to be torturous patience – or a lack thereof?

After taking her things back to her house, kept spotless by Serah, Lightning made her way to Hope's apartment. She soon wished she hadn't. When the door opened, it wasn't Hope's face which greeted her. It was a young woman with chestnut hair and burgundy eyes. She introduced herself as Dezra.

Hope's fiancé.

Rage still boiled Lightning's blood with just a thought, in spite of the year that had passed since she half stormed, half ran back to her house before the emotions boiling up in her chest began revealing themselves. Though normally reserved, guarded, and in control of herself, Light shouted, let her fists fly into the drywall, and eventually even cried.

He'd led her on. He'd lied.

Hope LIED.

She took some comfort in Dezra's apology a few days later. The young woman came to Lightning's door in tears, not asking for her forgiveness, but instead offering her own, gently insisting that Hope had never mentioned her, that if she'd known, she never would have even agreed to dinner with him. Lightning chose to forgive her, seeing her sincerity as huge teardrops rolled down her cheeks. With a half-forced smile, Lightning bid her well.

Dezra turned out to be a decent person.

But Hope, who had been a decent person in Lightning's eyes, never showed.

As angry as she was, Lightning ached for Hope. She dreamed of someday having him back. She'd grown more than lonely after Serah and Snow's wedding, and spent a lot of time worrying about her sister. She and Snow lived in New Palumpolum with their newborn son, leaving Lightning with no one to talk to. No one to spend time with.

No one but Hope.

Stay tuned...I plan to continue this. :)